Saturday, June 18, 2016.
In The Bar At Forks And Corks.
Mary Ann is conscientious about celebrating birthdays of her friends and family, special calendar days, and even some of my more ridiculous observances like my annual recollection of my junior prom night. Even though she is getting ready for two weeks with our son and his family in Los Angeles--one of her projects is making three blankets for our grandson Jackson--she insists that we must go out to celebrate Father's Day.
Even though I'm the father of two superb offspring, I don't think much of Father's Day. All my own father figures are gone, and it seems intrusive and maybe even peculiar to make a big deal for other dads I know. I just go along with the flow that Mary Ann creates.
[caption id="attachment_51910" align="alignleft" width="300"]
My two proofs I am a father. The joker on the right is now a very fine father himself.[/caption]
Which is to have supper in the bar at Forks and Corks in Terra Bella, an antique townlet in Covington. We grab two low, thick, comfy living-room chairs and a small cocktail table, and learn that there is no special menu for the bar. We can order anything we want from the dinner menu. We have some tobacco onion rings to start. They have no actual tobacco in the recipe. They're called that because the onions resemble dried tobacco leaves after they're coated with cayenne pepper. These are just okay, having come out much less than hot.
[caption id="attachment_51914" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Tobacco onion rings.[/caption]
Better are the fresh-cut pommes frites, doused with garlic butter and parmesan cheese. We go right through a big pile of those. Meanwhile, I have a well-made Negroni cocktail--first mixed drink I've had in weeks. I think I have made it clear in the past that that french fries and cocktails are a fine combination.
[caption id="attachment_51912" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Dinner in the TerraBella gloaming.[/caption]
While I am so dining and imbibing, the blue sky acquires a front of puffy clouds. The illumination from the setting sun brings a lovely look to the little community, whose buildings seem to have been built in the 1920s. (They are actually all very new.)
[caption id="attachment_51913" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Appetizer plate at Forks and Corks. The cracklings are very light. [/caption]
Next comes an appetizer platter of devilled eggs, pork cracklins, and a spreadable chicken salad with croutons. Then a cup of turtle soup, always good here--although it might be a shade too peppery for some.
Dessert is something called a Hubig's bread pudding. I don't understand the Hubig's aspect, but it's a good pudding, if very sweet. Too much for me to finish, and Mary Ann never touches bread pudding.
It's a very pleasant evening, although on our way home the conversation lists in a testy direction when we discuss Mary Ann's departure for Los Angeles. But I have become accustomed to this now. She must spend time with her grandson, and that's that. She was such a wonderful mother that only good could come of the visits. Besides, MA is very good about washing all my laundry before she disappears to the coast.
When I head in the genreal direction of the bed in the dark room, I sort of kick the leg holding the bed up. I think I may have broken my middle toe. But we'll see about that tomorrow.
Forks & Corks. Covington: 141 TerraBella Blvd. 985-273-3663.
[divider type=""]
Sunday, June 19, 2016.
A Dulcet Day For Dads.
Mary Ann has two Father's Day cards for me. One of them depicts a slice of toast with a smiley face toasted onto its surface. My family uses toast as my symbol. Perhaps even my coat of arms. Just because I eat one slice of toast for breakfast every day!
The other card gives me the laugh MA always goes for with her cards. "We've kept the kids alive for a while now" it says.
(Open card.) "I think we've got this parenting thing down."
(Smaller type.) "Yay, us!"
I planned to do a lot of work on Father's Day, thinking there won't be much else to do. The restaurants, which in the past have never done much with Father's Day, are full all over town, on both sides of the lake. Mary Ann keeps insisting that we go to someplace big--La Provence, especially. But I have been there on Father's Day, and there are too many people for the restaurant to be at its peak. We wind up going to Zea in mid-afternoon, and we even there we find a waiting list for other dads and families. Our trick of dining in the bar, which is almost never full at Zea, serves us well again.
We order too much food. Corn and crab bisque. The house salad. The spicy Southwestern-style crab cakes (where do they get grabs in the Southwest?). Roasted garlic hummus. I wind up taking a full, untouched tuna stack home.
It's still daylight, but my plan to cut the grass is destroyed by another tremendous thunderstorm. Nor can I take my daily walk after the rain stops: the toe I stubbed last night is starting to really hurt. I continue to worry that it may be broken.
But what good luck! I already have an appointment with the doctor tomorrow for my annual checkup!
My two proofs I am a father. The joker on the right is now a very fine father himself.[/caption]
Which is to have supper in the bar at Forks and Corks in Terra Bella, an antique townlet in Covington. We grab two low, thick, comfy living-room chairs and a small cocktail table, and learn that there is no special menu for the bar. We can order anything we want from the dinner menu. We have some tobacco onion rings to start. They have no actual tobacco in the recipe. They're called that because the onions resemble dried tobacco leaves after they're coated with cayenne pepper. These are just okay, having come out much less than hot.
[caption id="attachment_51914" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Tobacco onion rings.[/caption]
Better are the fresh-cut pommes frites, doused with garlic butter and parmesan cheese. We go right through a big pile of those. Meanwhile, I have a well-made Negroni cocktail--first mixed drink I've had in weeks. I think I have made it clear in the past that that french fries and cocktails are a fine combination.
[caption id="attachment_51912" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Dinner in the TerraBella gloaming.[/caption]
While I am so dining and imbibing, the blue sky acquires a front of puffy clouds. The illumination from the setting sun brings a lovely look to the little community, whose buildings seem to have been built in the 1920s. (They are actually all very new.)
[caption id="attachment_51913" align="alignnone" width="480"]
Appetizer plate at Forks and Corks. The cracklings are very light. [/caption]
Next comes an appetizer platter of devilled eggs, pork cracklins, and a spreadable chicken salad with croutons. Then a cup of turtle soup, always good here--although it might be a shade too peppery for some.
Dessert is something called a Hubig's bread pudding. I don't understand the Hubig's aspect, but it's a good pudding, if very sweet. Too much for me to finish, and Mary Ann never touches bread pudding.
It's a very pleasant evening, although on our way home the conversation lists in a testy direction when we discuss Mary Ann's departure for Los Angeles. But I have become accustomed to this now. She must spend time with her grandson, and that's that. She was such a wonderful mother that only good could come of the visits. Besides, MA is very good about washing all my laundry before she disappears to the coast.
When I head in the genreal direction of the bed in the dark room, I sort of kick the leg holding the bed up. I think I may have broken my middle toe. But we'll see about that tomorrow.
